


Aziraphale and the Waterfowl

by Quannon



Series: Good Omens Character Studies [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Existential Crisis, Historical, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quannon/pseuds/Quannon
Summary: In which Azirphale finds his way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Character Studies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564321
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Aziraphale and the Waterfowl

**Author's Note:**

> The assassination of John F Kennedy is discussed and there is mention of blood but no graphic violence is described.
> 
> This story is not really about the assassination so much as a Thanksgiving themed opportunity for Aziraphale's search for meaning in his life after the Dis-armageddon.

Aziraphale pursed his lips and fluffed his tartan scarf closer to his neck; piling it upward to his nose. The wind was picking up and it was getting very nippy out. An early morning walk today in St James’ Park might not have been the best plan. The weather was taking a surprising dip below freezing and had even produced some very early snow. That usually didn’t happen before December these days. He had not dressed quite warm enough. That new (last century) cream wool overcoat would have been a better choice.

The shrubbery along parts of the pond was rimed with ice where it hung low over the water. The air was cold enough that the mist rising from the warmer water would crystalize on the delicate chilled twigs of the smaller shrubs and on the dried stems of the tall ornamental grasses. As the sun rose, the clear sparkling light glinted off the facets of millions of tiny ice diamonds making the landscape twinkle as though lit by hidden fairy lights as he walked along.

The ducks and other fowl were mostly still ensconced in wherever it was that they went to keep warm in the night. Only a few hardly souls (do birds have souls?) had ventured out and were now huddling squat to the ground to conserve warmth. Of course, it would be the pelicans. They were hardier, or perhaps just more reckless, than the ducks, since their ancestors hunted on the ocean.

He liked to come here alone sometimes to think about things. Early morning walks, especially on cold days, insured that the Park would be at its emptiest. Since the Dis-Armageddon and the events following, Aziraphale had found that he had a lot of things to think about from his past. Things that he had done believing they were for good, but now, in hindsight, possibly they were in a limbo between good and evil. Thinking about these things; sorting through how he felt about them; what he thought he was doing; and how things actually turned out was crucial in starting to understand himself. He couldn’t go forward into the new three-sided world, until he understood himself as part of the old two-sided world.

Today was the American Thanksgiving. Not a holiday he celebrated since he was currently identifying with the British culture. And, in truth, to him, it was a version of all the harvest festivals that had ever developed throughout the ages. The premise of a harvest dinner between the Puritans and the local Native Americans was admirable enough. It didn’t happen that way of course. And even if it had, the mythical mutual respect between them dissolved almost immediately. But that was the ultimate result of all human rituals: eventually they all dissolved into the past as some new twist came along. 6000 years of witnessing history told him this was so. Still, how could he not approve of thanking God for the bounty? 

And there it was: was God responsible for the bounty or did it just happen that way that year? How would one ever know unless directly involved with a miracle? Or maybe just a good search of Heaven’s now unobtainable records? But God could do anything she wanted, of course. She didn’t have to work through her agents; she could take direct undocumented action herself if she wanted.

He thought back to the only Thanksgiving season that he had had a direct part in. Per Gabriel’s directive, he had taken the job of an airline stewardess in 1962. In those days, the job was almost exclusively held by women, so he presented as female when they applied to the government employment office. They gently persuaded the interviewer that they were a good choice and their hiring went smoothly forward. It was a federal government position with added scrutiny, but “miraculously”, they passed all the security checks. After a regular government orientation and special security training, Aziraphale joined the flight crew of Air Force One at the end of 1962.

This Air Force One was a Boeing 707 that had been built especially for presidential use in that same year. The crew had been given special training as befit the prestige of the plane. Despite that, one of the big take-aways from their experience was that powerful men and their sycophantic subordinates generally treated women in a serving position (cook, maid, waitress, airline hostess) as just so much fodder for whatever they desired. The women were not people; they were there for the taking. This didn’t shock Aziraphale all that much since most of the history they had lived through had been that way, but they were always hoping for improvement.

All the stewardesses had rotating schedules. The SAM 62-6000 made other flights when the President was not using it as Air Force One; up to 200 or so flights per year. Personnel had to be available around the clock. They did this much like the fire department: so many days “on” and so many days “off”. When it was time, Aziraphale made sure that they were on the roster for the flight they had been working toward.

November 22, 1963. Aziraphale was chatting with the other stewardesses in the galley. Even on a specially designed presidential jet, or maybe especially because it was a presidential jet, there are places for the “wait staff” to, well, wait and not be seen. They had landed at 11:40 am or so in Dallas from Fort Worth and would leave in a few hours for Austin. They and the other women had straightened the cabins and now were preparing beverages and snacks for when the presidential retinue returned. There were the usual stories about “I had to evade ****. I don’t know how his wife puts up with him” or other common annoyances. Everything seemed like a normal Air Force One flight.

Then the radio messages started. The pilot heard those, but one of the girls had a transistor radio. It was a new Japanese product that smelled of plastic and electronics. It was crackly, but they could hear what the news was reporting. President Kennedy had been shot. President Kennedy was dead.

Aziraphale waited; listening to the radio descriptions of what was happening. The descriptions were sparse. The shooting and the death were reported but little else. The pilot was desperately trying to get news about what would be required for the plane. He had only gotten a light fuel top up as they weren’t originally going very far. Everyone was in shock.

Then the political advantages started to be weighed. They could feel it in the air even though no one had yet returned to the plane. Room was created for President Kennedy’s casket. People were repositioned from Air Force One to Air Force Two. The Johnson’s luggage was brought to Air Force One. There was a disagreeable atmosphere around taking over the Kennedy on-board bedroom before Jackie had even returned to the plane. When she did, she found four people in her bedroom who eventually found the grace to leave.

The moment was approaching. Aziraphale placed themselves close to the staff cabin. They couldn’t actually be in the cabin, but the plane was constricted enough that close was just as good. There had been a scramble to get Judge Hughes, a Johnson family friend, to the plane to administer the oath of office. This was complete with side “discussions” about the appropriateness of the speed with which this was happening. Plus, an assertion that Robert Kennedy had pushed for the quick oath for the nation’s sake. He later denied that he had said any such thing, but it was way too late by that time.

So great was their rush that obtaining a Bible for the ceremony had been over-looked. In the end, a Roman Catholic missal was found in the Kennedy’s bedroom and used for the purpose. Jackie took part as an observer to the administration of the oath of office; immortalized by the White House photographer. She was still in her pink outfit and still had her husband’s blood on her.

At the moment of the oath, Aziraphale calmed themselves and projected positive calmness into the chaos of Lyndon Johnson’s mind as he recited the words, “I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States” adding “so help me God”. 1 Right then, Aziraphale projected, “complete John Kennedy’s programs”.

Five days later, in Lyndon Baines Johnson’s first inaugural address, he said:  
“No words are sad enough to express our sense of loss. No words are strong enough to express our determination to continue the forward thrust of America that he began.

The dream of conquering the vastness of space—the dream of partnership across the Atlantic—and across the Pacific as well—the dream of a Peace Corps in less developed nations—the dream of education for all of our children—the dream of jobs for all who seek them and need them—the dream of care for our elderly—the dream of an all-out attack on mental illness—and above all, the dream of equal rights for all Americans, whatever their race or color—these and other American dreams have been vitalized by his drive and by his dedication.  
….  
On the 20th day of January, in 1961, John F. Kennedy told his countrymen that our national work would not be finished "in the first thousand days, nor in the life of this administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But," he said, "let us begin."

Today, in this moment of new resolve, I would say to all my fellow Americans, let us continue.

This is our challenge—not to hesitate, not to pause, not to turn about and linger over this evil moment, but to continue on our course so that we may fulfill the destiny that history has set for us. ….”2

Aziraphale had left government employ as soon as possible after Air Force One had landed in Washington. His job was done. At the time, he had felt the goodness of all those objectives; that maybe Gabriel had been right. 

Looking back on it now, however, he was conflicted. 

First, he had come to know a lot about Lyndon Baines Johnson through that year of flights with him. After 6000 years of knowing humans, it did not take many meetings for him to know the heart of a person. At that time and in that place, it was entirely possible that Johnson would freely choose the same decision without any nudging from Heaven. So, their role, Aziraphale’s role, was not necessarily significant. They hadn’t offered comfort to Mrs. Kennedy or even any of the other stewardesses. They had been themselves whose nature it was to comfort, but nothing beyond a normal human effort. If their nudge had not really helped Mr. Johnson to make his decision, had only been leaves on the pile of the reasons he was already going to do it anyway, then whether an angel had been present or not made not a whit of difference.

He would never really know the answer to that.

What about the outcome? Whether he had had any effect or not, there were positive consequences that he had hoped for from that decision.

The attack on mental illness did happen. Many abuses were corrected, and inadequate or dangerous facilities were closed. In some respects, maybe it went too far leaving the sufferers without care and medication. It is a tightrope walk not yet skillfully navigated between respect for the person and caring for them.

The civil rights movement had progressed. Laws were changed. Society became more open and gradually gave more freedom and opportunity to its lesser served citizens. He had hoped that all people would have better, kinder lives. The trend has not continued over time. In fact, it seems to have reached an apogee and begun falling back to where it began. He hoped not, but he had seen it too often in 6000 years.

Yes, the Peace Corps did help communities in under-developed countries. It also led to a plethora of non-governmental organizations attempting to do the same thing with very little oversight. And the Corp itself went through “vision” changes to adapt to ever changing times and ambitions. People were helped and people were hurt.

The other goals of alliances across the oceans, space exploration, care for the elderly, education and jobs for all were admirable but not long lasting. Alliances fade, space exploration lost glamour, care for the elderly really required the boomer generation to reach old age to see the cracks, and jobs depend on the mercurial economy which, in Aziraphale’s opinion, is totally faith-based in how it works. Faith being in what something is or is not worth. Whether any president could hope to permanently cure these things seemed to him to be a vanity.

And then there was Vietnam. Also initially framed as a continuation of JFK policy, but this is contested.3 Whatever the truth of that, Lyndon Johnson supported the Vietnam War effort resulting in over 58,000 American casualties and did not prevent a Communist take-over. Did Aziraphale’s “nudge” have anything to do with promoting this war? What if it did, since heavenly events just recently in the past would indicate that Gabriel might have been more interested in the war than in societal improvement. He didn’t really know how Gabriel viewed the Chinese Communists – as just other humans or as Hell inspired. If the later, then he would have been all about the war. 

Aziraphale thought about asking Crowley but rejected it. That wasn’t fair. If the demon ever brought it up himself that was one thing, but asking about it could open territory Crowley wasn’t ready to explore. And it really didn’t help with Aziraphale’s own opinion about what he did on November 22, 1963.

In the end, Lyndon Johnson could have chosen to actualize John Kennedy’s agenda all on his own. Whether he did choose freely or not, some good things happened but deteriorated over time, some things didn’t happen, and some bad things happened but improved over time. This sums up the human experience which can be viewed as a cycle over the entirety of history. Does that make it pointless? Does that make him pointless?

Aziraphale watched the sun rise higher in the sky and welcomed the slowly gathering waterfowl come to greet the day. No matter how cold it was, even these comparatively pampered creatures knew that they would still have to forage for food and shelter; they could not just sit in their refuge. They came trundling out. Some swimming where the water was open; some waddling along the shore looking for edible scraps or other avian delicacies. He smiled and pulled a paper bag from his pocket filled with oat and grains approved to keep ducks healthy in the winter. He scattered some as they came near. Soon he had a little entourage of fowl following his footsteps or, more accurately, his bestowed largess. Little spats broke out over the more coveted kernels. He smiled again and kept walking. There was enough in that ever-filled bag to make them all happy.

As he walked around the pond, he saw some fowl that weren’t as active as the others. They were having a little trouble getting limbered up from their unexpectedly cold night. And the white stuff wasn’t helping. These birds were not able to reach the path that Aziraphale walked. He smiled and automatically threw some of the oats all the way over to where they were. Soon they too were perking up and joining the flock even though they remained cantankerously unappreciative when the food did not just keep showing up at their feet.

Aziraphale walked on, the American presidency weighing heavily on his mind. What were Gabriel’s actual objectives? What was Lyndon Johnson’s heart on Kennedy’s legacy? Was Aziraphale a force for good, an inadvertent force for evil, or just irrelevant?

A calmness came over him as the sun rose higher in the sky. There was still a little morning mist hanging in the air and still some ice crystals gleaming in that mist. In a very few minutes it would all dissipate in the sun’s warmth. A rainbow appeared as the morning rays caught the suspended crystals at just the right angle. A rainbow is a promise… a powerful promise for things to become better from One who would actually know.

He stopped and breathed in the miracle of the rainbow. For all rainbows, the prism, whether ice or water droplets, must be in the right alignment with the direction of the sunlight and the observer in order to be seen. This one appeared to him.

Suddenly he knew. He knew that he wasn’t irrelevant, and it didn’t matter what Gabriel’s objectives were, or whether Johnson would have decided the way he did anyway. The plan is to improve, to become better. Paraphrasing Kennedy, it might not happen in the first 6000 years, nor in the life of the two-sided world, nor perhaps even in the life of the three-sided world. But he should begin.

Aziraphale thought back on 6000 years of history and on Lyndon Johnson’s presidency. Since the beginning of time things changed because humans chose. Sometimes for good and sometimes for ill. They would reach an apogee and begin to fall back to the center. But the center, he now saw, incrementally progressed over time. He had read somewhere recently that the current year was the safest year to be alive in all of recorded history based on how likely it was you would be killed instead of growing old. Even with the atrocities that are still happening, things are better than they were, although this might only be apparent to a celestial who had literally seen it all. 

And for himself? The waterfowl demonstrated his usefulness. They got up every day and chose to meet it. He chose to occasionally make it a little easier for them, to help them chose because the choice was available: oats and grain right now vs waiting to see if something would just happen by. It is still their choice, but he can, on the right occasions, make a choice possible. He can still do good that matters in the world.

Aziraphale reached the beginning point of his path having come full circle around the pond. The morning mist had dissipated, and the rainbow was gone. The bag of oats was returned to his “pocket” and the waterfowl went to look for other treats. He smiled as he caught site of a red-haired demon casually sprawled over “their” bench and he was thankful on this American holiday for the opportunities in his life. He spotted two warm drinks in a carrier at Crowley’s side. He hoped it would be tea.

Notes:  
1 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oath_of_office_of_the_President_of_the_United_States  
Back

2- excerpt from the speech transcript: https://millercenter.org/the-presidency/presidential-speeches/november-27-1963-address-joint-session-congress Back

3 - https://www.huffpost.com/entry/jfk-assassination_b_8603938 Back

**Author's Note:**

> All historical facts presented are from google searches so may be subject to error. I have footnotes for the websites I directly quoted from.


End file.
